


In a Storm

by mathildia



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Bad Ideas, Bondage, F/F, Sadism, St Andrews Cross, Whipping, drunk bdsm, pain slut regina, terrible idiot dominatrix cruella
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-07
Updated: 2016-01-07
Packaged: 2018-05-12 10:28:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5662993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mathildia/pseuds/mathildia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cruella came over with the curse, why not?</p><p>Regina through the curse would cure all her problems. So she didn't think she'd need this anymore. So when she does, Cruella is the only person who can provide.</p><p>
  <i>Today she went, out of the cloud and the rain and into the black-painted, candle-lit basement under Cruella’s nice, weatherboarded three bedroom; where Cruella shoved Regina up against the St Andrews - because of course this tired old dungeon of a tired old dominatrix was equipped with one of those things. Similarly, Regina was naked and Cruella wore black leather thigh boots, a black leather catsuit with the zipper so low it barely covered her nipples and a pair of black leather gloves. Those gloves skimmed Regina’s skin as Cruella strapped her to the cross with a kind of lazy harshness - like she simply couldn’t be bothered to do this with any care or attention - pulling the wrist straps too tight and adding an unnecessary, thick collar that tipped Regina’s head back and made each breath a small struggle as Cruella yanked the buckle needlessly tight.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	In a Storm

**Author's Note:**

> Violet Scented Writer asked for more Devil Queen, I had this old prompt fill... so here we go. 
> 
> (I'm sure I don't need to tell you that this is a terrible way to go about things. Hitting people while drunk is a dreadful thing to do... but such fun to write about.)

There was a hole in Regina’s heart. A great empty maw, ragged and bloody at the edges and it just got bigger every day. As ever, this was the only thing that helped. Shame this bitch was the only dominatrix in town. An oversight. She planned the street map and she’d planned the sewers, but she hadn’t planned for this, hadn’t thought she’d need it.

Today she went, out of the cloud and the rain and into the black-painted, candle-lit basement under Cruella’s nice, weatherboarded three bedroom; where Cruella shoved Regina up against the St Andrews - because of course this tired old dungeon of a tired old dominatrix was equipped with one of those things. Similarly, Regina was naked and Cruella wore black leather thigh boots, a black leather catsuit with the zipper so low it barely covered her nipples and a pair of black leather gloves. Those gloves skimmed Regina’s skin as Cruella strapped her to the cross with a kind of lazy harshness - like she simply couldn’t be bothered to do this with any care or attention - pulling the wrist straps too tight and adding an unnecessary, thick collar that tipped Regina’s head back and made each breath a small struggle as Cruella yanked the buckle needlessly tight. 

From the _snick_ that followed, Regina guessed Cruella was lighting a cigarette. She smelt the familiar smoke-scent a moment later and let her eyes flicker closed. 

Cruella’s sloppy laziness pissed Regina off, but when she squirmed against the restraints, felt the lack of movement and the way they bit into her, she almost moaned out loud at how dreadful and thoughtless Cruella was - only holding it in, when she heard the tiresome _click click_ of Cruella’s heels stop on the stone flag behind her. Right behind her. Right in the position for…

Cruella used the crop suddenly and without warning, the snappy impact of it sending a streak of white fire across Regina’s ass. She jerked forward into the cross, yanking at the leather around her wrists, yelling out in pain and shock. Tears prickled her eyes. Wet heat flooded her cunt. 

“Come on, girl. Say thank you, mistress,” said Cruella in a bored sort of way, her voice slightly muffled by the cigarette between the lips. She spoke as if she was amazed Regina needed reminding of this requirement.

Regina looked over her shoulder, liking the feel of the collar restricting her breathing. “You’ll have to hit me harder than that if you want thanking for it.” she said. 

Cruella leaned closer, took Regina’s chin and turned her face firmly back to face the wood. Her mouth was close to Regina’s ear. Under the smoke, her breath smelt of gin. “Oh,” she said. “Oh really?”

“Really,” said Regina as best she could with her face crushed into a plank. “You better have something more for me than that for me or I’m going home.” She took a breath. “Mistress.”

“Oh you are going fucking nowhere, believe me, bitch,” Cruella said as she took a wobbly step backwards, following up with an exceptionally vicious second lash. A clutch of them, in fact. A fucking drum beat of what Regina was knew was a hard as Cruella could hit, all over her ass and thighs. A delicious, mind-numbing fucking hailstorm of pain, lighting her up like a fireball. She screamed, helpless. She wrenched at the restraints, unable to move anyway or protect herself or do anything at all as Cruella, hit her and hit her and hit her. Her cunt was alight with it and her whole body throbbed with the same desperate rhythm.

Cruella was a drunk and an idiot, and she loved all the trappings of this game. Loved to strut around her tawdry little dungeon in her heels and PVC, loved to make Regina beg like a slut for whips and cane and clamps and wax - leave her skin beneath her business suits covered in wheals and bruises. Loved to call her a bitch and a whore, to slap her face and make her cry and beg, through tears, for more, for harder. Loved to act as if, in fact, her own proclivities actually made her some kind of natural superior to Regina in some ludicrous way. She was dreadful, but she was also a sadist. Like no other sadist Regina had ever known. Limitless and reckless and blatantly dangerous - stumbling across the dungeon towards Regina with a lit candle in one hand and a double measure in the other. 

Regina, bound and powerless, without magic, trapped in the place with this fucking maniac. It was better then anything she could have designed. All she had to do with Cruella, was wind her up and watch her go.

“I know your game, Lady Mayor,” Cruella panted, exerted from the whipping, but not letting up. She spat her cigarette onto the floor as she approached and grabbed a handful of Regina’s bare ass, twisting, digging at the sore spots with her nails. Regina yelled. “Provoke me into giving you a lashing that all but flays you alive, darling? Well if that’s what you fucking want, I am more than happy to oblige…, more than bloody happy.” At that last ‘happy’ she moved back and brought the whip down so hard across the backs of Regina’s spread thighs, that all Regina could feel was something like an violent electric jolt through her whole body. 

Cruella stepped in again and slid the tip of the whip into the slick groove of Regina’s cunt. Drawing it slowly in and out until Regina whimpered and tried to grind against it. Cruella responded by pulling the whip back and tapping it up between Regina’s legs - not hard, but hard enough to promise something relentless and cruel. “And now, darling, I am going to whip this fucking filthy cunt of yours until it doesn’t know if it’s coming or going.”


End file.
